


Not Done With You

by coveredbyroses



Series: The Porn Wars [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Size Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 16:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21431335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredbyroses/pseuds/coveredbyroses
Summary: It’s been a long week without Sam.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader
Series: The Porn Wars [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1338178
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	Not Done With You

This is enough to get you off. Right here; the way he’s draped so long over you, hitched down enough so that he can center his hips right over yours. He’s hard underneath the denim, presses into you just right; the seam of your own jeans nudging up into your clit. He rolls his hips faint, just enough to send tingling little sparks of pleasure feathering into your cunt.

His head’s dipped over yours with the height difference, the silky soft of his hair curtaining over your eyes and forehead. He’s up on his forearms, but leaves enough of his weight against you to really feel the raw size and strength of him.

He’s breathing heavy; hot, balmy little bursts pulsing into your ear, and it makes you curl your fingers deeper into the army green cotton stretched over his shoulders.

“God - please, Sam,” you whisper, hips bucking up in chase of more friction. “Need it, need you.”

He sniggers, but hefts up to drop to his heels, and lets his hands drag down over the swells of your breasts, slowing over the soft length of your torso. His eyes slip to yours as he pops the button of your jeans, smoky under the damp light.

“Impatient, tonight,” he gleams, teeth sinking into the pink of his bottom lip as he rasps your zipper down.

“You’ve been gone a week,” you grunt, gasping when he twists his hand, palm up, under the open V of your jeans, stroking you through the thin cotton of your panties. Your skin lights, fire erupting through your middle with every firm swipe of long fingers. “Fucking - _oh_ \- sue me.”

He pulls his hand free so he can work your pants down, leaves them bunched around your heels, then goes to unfasten himself.

Your mouth waters, like it always does, when he bounces free; cock thick, long, and heavy. You start to hitch up, because god, you want to swallow him whole, but he gets a massive palm down on your thigh. “Not tonight,” he says, and gives you a hungry squeeze. He drops down before you can muster up a response, messy hair brushing against the soft of your inner thighs. He licks a hot stripe right up the center of you, and you always forget how big his _tongue_ is, covers _everything_ when he flattens it out.

“Shit,” you breathe, combing your fingers through his hair. “God, that’s good.” Sam hums, stretches his arms long so he can squeeze your tits over your shirt as he laps and sucks; hot and slick.

He gets you drenched in no time at all, and you’re sweating underneath the band of your bra, tendrils of your hair already starting to cling to your clammy forehead. He brings an arm down, gets two fingers against you, and slowly works them in deep in a way that has your own fingers scrunching and scraping at his scalp. He starts thrusting quick and jerky, his tongue sliding up to swirl these exquisite, wet little circles over your clit.

You’re tightening up ridiculously fast, insides buttering up with the promise of your orgasm. _“Shit-shit-shit,”_ you squeak, in time with his hammering fingers, and you know you’re pulling his hair, but the sounds he’s making tell you he doesn’t mind at all, and it’s not like you can help it anyway because, fuck, you’re gonna-

You come at the first scrape of teeth, thighs taut and trembling against his ears. Sam slows the thrusts but doesn’t stop, and the drag against your convulsing cunt just feels so _good._

He breaks away some seconds later, lips and peppered cheeks flushed and shining. “Shit, Sam. That was-”

Sam pulls up to his knees, slender fingers wrapping around the swollen, ruddy meat of his dick. “Oh, baby,” he grins, voice throaty. “I’m not even _close_ to done with you.”


End file.
